


the lake behind wanda's house

by idacarvalli



Series: beckins point- a small town au [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Drabble, Gen, Jewish Wanda Maximoff, POV Wanda Maximoff, Romani Wanda Maximoff, Sibling Bonding, for practicing some description, this is literally just a shitfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:27:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29822856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idacarvalli/pseuds/idacarvalli
Summary: she calls it the lake of good fortune.------------------literally just a drabble i thought i'd post. might be the introduction to a series i'm considering writing.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff
Series: beckins point- a small town au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192331
Kudos: 5





	the lake behind wanda's house

**Author's Note:**

> this is absolutely completely unbeta'd. wanda is romani and jewish. set in a small town because i adore writing small town au's. kudos and comments are appreciated, but this is kind of just a random fic that i wrote.

In the lake behind Wanda’s house fish swim all day and all night, their small tails whipping back and forth as they propel themselves through the clear waters. There are minnows, and goldfish, and all sorts of other strange creatures. They splash through the crystal water and swim to the far side, where the small waves lap up against the shore. It’s the only lake in Beckins Point, a small thing nestled into the mountains where only the locals knew how to find it.

The lake behind Wanda’s house was a good few miles away from the main town, sheltered in between the thick trees. She called it the Lake of Good Fortune, although it was officially called Hollow Lake. 

Wanda and Pietro had come up with the name themselves, on a summer day when they were seven. Their parents had taken them out to the woods for a day, and Pietro, being the idiot that he was, had gotten them lost. The twins had waited by the lake until their parents found them, hugging them and crying and scolding them as well. 

Now Wanda stares out the window of her small house that rests on the slope of the mountain. It is far away from the rest of the people; she loved them, truly, but they could get incredibly  _ annoying  _ sometimes. 

It’s a little bit too chilly outside to go to the lake, but Wanda goes anyway, throwing on a small coat over her clothes. She hugs herself, shivering. Her teeth chatter against the cold that nips against her bare legs. She should have worn pants. 

She moves aside the undergrowth, watching out for tree branches that snapped back a little too hard or roots that were small but a little too sturdy. The grass crunches under her feet, a thin layer of dead autumn leaves spread out along the forest floor. They stick to the sole of her shoes. Some small fragments come loose and fall back to the floor, where they would spend the rest of their days.

The Lake of Good Fortune is a few minutes' walk, just behind a thick row of oaks. Wanda ducks under a low-hanging branch and comes back up, eyeing the hollow with satisfaction. This place… it never got old. The waters aren’t as clear as they are during the spring or summer, but they’re still beautiful. Leaves of all colors float on the surface; brown, gold, red, yellow. It’s beautiful but different. 

A cicada chirps somewhere deep in the woods, on the other side of the lake. Wanda smiles slightly, unknowingly, and leans against the thick trunk of a tree. She runs her hand down the bark, feeling for the spot where Pietro had carved their initials so long ago.

She remembers it like it was yesterday. It was the second time they had snuck out, a few days after their finding of the lake. It had been with a butter knife rather than a whittling knife because their parents didn’t own any. They thought whittling was a waste of time. Pietro had spent a few hours on it, making crude gashes in the trunks of multiple trees before finally perfecting it on a large sycamore with long branches. 

Her fingers slip into the crevices that her brother had made and she feels the names.  _ P.M.  _ and  _ W.M. _ and next to them, a small Star of David.

* * *

Hours pass and Wanda’s eyes are shut tight. All she feels is the wind whipping through the breeze, getting colder and colder as the day bore on. Her legs have gone numb to it, goosebumps no longer forming on her calves, and it’s only one the back of her eyelids go from bright orange to black does she open them again. It’s night. 

She treks back to her house and makes herself a meal, just a small peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Wanda ponders going to town but thinks better of it as soon as she glances down towards the valley. The lights are bright and she can hear music playing, even from a hundred feet up. Stark must be throwing another party. For Halloween, maybe, even though that’s a few nights away.

Her bedroom, which has been hers since she was a child, is clean. The walls are painted solid white and her bed is situated in the back corner. It used to be just a twin-sized mattress since her parents could never afford a bed. Now it was a larger wooden frame, but still nothing exceptional. 

She showers quickly, in an old bathroom that Pietro used to share with her. Her pajamas are hung up in the closet. They’re black. Nothing special. 

The house is colder than usual, Wanda notices. She drags an extra blanket out of the closet and curls up in her bed, under the warmth of two comforters. 

She turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the small room into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh thanks for reading but why'd you read this LMFAO


End file.
